


we meet on the linoleum floors (or, the girl next door)

by strangesmallbard



Series: snapshots of swan queen [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangesmallbard/pseuds/strangesmallbard
Summary: “swan!” she says, poking her head out the balcony screen door, still in her robe. “have you ever heard of earphones?”**five snapshots of that time emma and regina become neighbors.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i lied about not doing this format anymore. it turns out this format is my new friend. hopefully i'll be able to get some longer writing done when my schedule is less terrifying.
> 
> please feel free to let me know if you want to see more of any au!

1.

she moves in on a wednesday.

regina’s on the balcony, smoking a rare cigarette do to the most stupid long work day of her life (if she murders gold, won’t that actually be doing a service to society?) when she hears her. or more like, her suitcases being dropped and crackling on the concrete.

sparing a look down, a woman in an awful red jacket offers her a wave. “hey!”

“hey,” regina says, taking a drag. dramatic. she’ll smile tomorrow. “going somewhere?”

“uh,” the woman says, and looks behind her towards the beat-up yellow bug. “moving in, actually? i’ll be in 212B if…you like, need something?”

“just don’t smoke,” regina says, taking another drag.

“uh,” the woman says again. “are you…” she smiles. “first neighbor joke! got it.”

regina waves. “211B, if you need something.”

the woman gives a thumbs up. 

neighbors her own age could be nice, regina decides. her last neighbor was mrs. wilcox, who tried her hardest to set regina up with her asshole son. so. attractive women with questionable fashion choices are definitely an improvement.

2.

or not. it’s not that she hates simon & garfunkle. or lana del rey. okay, maybe she hates simon & garfunkle and lana del rey. details.

it’s just that 2 pm and 3 am, respectively, are not _ideal times_ for either. especially when she’s drowning in paperwork at both respective times.

“swan!” she says, poking her head out the balcony screen door, still in her robe. “have you ever heard of earphones?”

emma steps onto her balcony. she’s in a tank, holding a power drill and regina wants to die, in the same way that olympic divers want to dive. “lost them while chasing a guy down lowell street. did you know that it’s possible to run 60 mph in armani suits? not a good night.”

regina wraps her robe more firmly around her, feeling heat rise up her neck. she looks at rocinante, who’s basking in the waning pink sun instead of. places. she doesn't even think to ask emma what the hell that sentence even means.

“i’ll leave you an old pair tomorrow,” she says, making direct eye contact with confusion, and slams the door.

3.

or, even if they come home at egregious hours, yelling _fuck_  at the door. 

regina does the sensible thing and runs outside with a baseball bat. emma swan is heaving outside her door, one hand on the frame. she’s bleeding, not heavily, but enough for regina to make some kind of gasping noise.

emma jerks her head up. “regina? what are you doing?

“what the fu– what are _you_ doing?” regina gets out, bat still up like she’s going to hit a home run.

turns out her attractive next door neighbor with awful fashion sense and power tool ability is a _bounty hunter,_ so coming home bleeding is the _norm regina, don’t worry._ which regina did _not_ sign up for. 

in her frustration, she bakes emma a cobbler. she attaches a note to get the message across that she’s not, under any circumstances, worried.

_Never bleed on my doorstep again. -R_

4.

regina comes home from yet another stupid long day, eyes rimmed red and holding her heels to find emma sitting against her door with her knees up. even with her head down, she looks like something copy-pasted her from the definition for _fucking exhausted._

“hey,” regina says, tucking her shoes underneath her arm and opening her door with the other. “enjoying the view of the linoleum?”

emma lifts her head and gives the world’s saddest smile. “hi,” she says. “nah. i prefer grey to green. more honest about itself.”

“i don’t know, i find the pattern fairly relaxing.” 

emma laughs, and it sounds just like her smile. “sure. have a nice night, regina.”

regina blinks. “are you locked out?

“completely and totally.”

“did you call the–”

“manager’s out. i think jefferson’s still in his hat shop. which, okay, i guess. i don’t really trust a man who can’t make a simple beanie.”

regina sighs. “i’m about to put in a lasagna. are you a fan of red chili flakes?”

her smile turns gentle, bright. “chili flakes? ever thought of going on chopped?”

“oh, shut up,” she says, offering a hand to pull her up.

5.

three days later, regina comes home to a bag of granny’s burger. inside is a not-granny’s burger. with chili flakes on it.

_Finally got a grill! Maybe that’ll be my next hot dad activity._

regina feels heat return up her neck, and laughs.


End file.
